manners?" said her mother from the
background reprovingly, but with an obvious note of pride in her voice.

"Where they always were," said Peggy boldly, laughing, and staying
where she was.

She was tall and full-formed, with thick black hair like her mother's,
not fluffy and waving like Marjorie's, but curling tight in rings
wherever it had the chance. Her eyes were black and her cheeks and
lips a deep permanent red. She looked the picture of health and
strength, and Marjorie felt like a toy beside her--fragile to the
breaking-point. She seemed much better educated than her mother, and
evidently on a footing of perfect equality and affection with Francis.

Marjorie was drawn to her, for the girl had vitality and charm; but she
found herself wondering why Francis had never told her about this
Peggy, and why he had never thought of marrying her.

"You wouldn't think this young wretch was only sixteen, would you?"
said Francis, answering her silent question. "Look at her--long
dresses and hair done up, and beaux, I hear, in all directions!"

Of course. If Peggy had been scarcely past fourteen when Francis saw
her last, he couldn't have considered marrying her. Marjorie tried to
think that she wished he had, but found that she did not like to cease
owning anything that she had ever possessed, even such a belonging as
Francis Ellison.

"That's very nice," she said inadequately, smiling at Peggy in as
friendly a manner as so tired a person could manage. "I'm glad I shall
have Peggy to be friends with while I'm up here."

"Oh, me dear, ye'll be up here forever an' the day after, be the looks
of the job Mr. Francis has on his hands," said Mrs. O'Mara.

"No, I won't," she began to say hurriedly, and then stopped herself.
She had no right to tell any one about her bargain with Francis. She
didn't want to, anyway.

"The poor child's tired," said Mrs. O'Mara, whom, in spite of her
relation to Peggy, Marjorie was beginning to regard as a guardian
angel. "Come upstairs to yer room, me dear."

Marjorie rose, with Francis and Peggy hovering about her, carrying
wraps and hats and suitcases; and Mrs. O'Mara led the way to a room on
the floor above, reached by a stair suspiciously like a ladder.

"Here ye'll be comfortable," said Mrs. O'Mara, "and rest a little till
we have supper. Peggy will get you anything you want."

But Marjorie declined Peggy. All she wanted was to rest a little
longer.

She flung herself